Starts with Goodbye
by Tinsadisaster
Summary: [INPROGRESS] SPOILER ALERT! When the battle has finished and the magical world begins to reconstruct itself, those who have not fallen must pick up the pieces of their broken lives. DMHG
1. The End of the End

**Starts with Goodbye**

_Tinsadisaster_

**Summary**: When the battle has finished and the magical world begins to reconstruct itself, those who have not fallen must pick up the pieces of their broken lives. DracoHermione

**Disclaimer**: I'd like to obliviate J.K. Rowling and pretend I own the characters and the story, but hey I'm only a Muggle sans magical skill.

**Author's Note**:  
I know that our little ship was totally destroyed and squashed by the last Harry Potter book but we can still pretend, right? Here is a sneak peek into my newest story, inspired by Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, the greatest book I have ever read, thus far.

* * *

I. The End of the End

Hogwarts castle was in ruins. The once magical school with a captivating look of strength and power was now the remains of a hard-fought battle. The stone walls had been penetrated, walls had been knocked down, and the blood flowed on the ground as if it was rain water. Bodies were strewn on the ground, piles and piles of bodies. A fallen Death Eater lay face forward on the ground, still grasping his wand while a young witch lay near him, dried blood on her shirt.

The lights were out and it looked like the scene of a bloody tragedy.

However, there in the Great Hall of the school were a few people. Their homes had been destroyed by the magic of the Death Eaters and they slept in sleeping bags, conjured up by those who were healthy enough to. Among those were three blond-headed purebloods, whose home had been confiscated by the Ministry for security matters.

Their names were Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, and Draco Malfoy.

They looked around them, uncomfortable. They did not feel if their presence there was right but they had nowhere else to go.

They were a war-torn family, aged in a single day. Even Draco, who had been rather handsome, looked as if he were twenty years older than he really was. They sat together, confused and unsure of what to do with themselves.

"At least we're still alive," Narcissa said quietly, grabbing her son by the shoulders and kissing the top of his head. She cringed, dried blood was matted in his usually well groomed hair. The boy, who had been surprised by the loving gesture, stiffened but relaxed, leaning into his mother's touch.

"I can't believe..." Lucius said. He was wandless and without dignity. His usual arrogant personality had been lost during the humiliation that his family was put through, because of his mistakes.

"Father, I'm sorry," Draco said, unsure of what he was exactly sorry for. He only felt that he needed to say this. Perhaps it had been for his weakness, his fear of the monster that was not disposed of.

"Draco, let's not talk about this here..." said Lucius sternly, aware of the wandering eyes and eavesdropping ears of wizards and witches around them.

"Where do we go from here?" Narcissa asked, only happy that her son was safe and that her husband was alive and well. Though he was mentally shocked and broken by war, he was alive and that was all she wanted.

"I don't know," Lucius said. "I don't know."


	2. The Breakdown

**Starts with Goodbye**

_Tinsadisaster_

**Summary**: When the battle has finished and the magical world begins to reconstruct itself, those who have not fallen must pick up the pieces of their broken lives. DracoHermione

**Disclaimer**: I'd like to obliviate J.K. Rowling and pretend I own the characters and the story, but hey I'm only a Muggle sans magical skill.

**Author's Note**: Thank you to Cupid's Bride, my first reviewer in a very long time.

* * *

II. The Breakdown

Draco was terrified. His father, who had been the strongest and wisest wizard he knew, was unsure of himself and their future.

He couldn't believe that he was still alive. After failing to kill Professor Dumbledore, he knew his days were limited, but here he sat, beside his shaken parents, tired and afraid.

The past several months of his life crashed onto his shoulders, leaving him absolutely exhausted, as if his load was that of Atlas, who held the world on his shoulders.

No, he wasn't Atlas. Potter was Atlas.

He couldn'tbelieve the battle that had gone on before his eyes had really happened. Was Lord Voldemort finally dead? Did Potter really defeat the monster that had destroyed his family, as well as his life?

He shook with emotion, tears trickling down his dirty cheeks. His father did not tell him to control himself. Instead, Luncius put his arm around him, encasing him in a belated but still much-needed embrace.

"Don't worry, Draco. I will take care of you and your mother," said Lucius, lying a bit. The blond-haired wizard, now ex-Death Eater once again, didn't know what to do. Lord Voldemort had been such a major part of his life that he hadn't imagined a life free from the cruel, merciless ruler. He was sure that his master would be victorious but then he pictured a world in which he was and had only seen pain and suffering for himself and his family.

There was obvious reason why Draco had been sacrificed to do the impossible task of the murder of Albus Dumbledore, the only wizard that Voldemort ever feared. Narcissa knew and Lucius knew that it had been done for his mistakes. But he was relieved when his son stumbled into their home, shell-shocked and emotionally wrecked.

Unlike Bellatrix, who had said she would give up her sons to the Dark Lord, had she sons, Lucius wouldn't have dared involve Draco into such matters. The boy was only seventeen! He was destined to fail! And naturally, he cared for him. Draco was his only son, the last of the Malfoy bloodline, and his flesh and blood. Believing that he was unsafe at the Malfoy Manor, he sent Draco back to Hogwarts.

Lucius was lost in his thoughts but was taken back to reality when he felt Draco jump up suddenly and scream, "All those people! He made me hurt them! I didn't want to, but I did!" Draco was definately affected by what had happened. His mother motioned to pull him closer but he shook away from her touch. "Don't you see? I've killed. I've hurt." He stormed away, running as far away and fast away as his long legs would take him. A wizard or two howled in pain as he stepped on their limbs in his desperate chase for peace. He saw the moonlight reflecting from the exit of the castle and took that path, and headed straight for the Quidditch Pitch, which had been untouched by the war.

He ran to the center of the lonely stadium and howled with remorse and pain. He cried out, dropped to his knees, and screamed as he never screamed before. He pulled at the grass, feeling the dirt wedge under his fingernails, and pulled at his clothing, throwing off his dark robe, loosening up his tie, and popping the buttons off his shirt as he ripped it from his body.

There, laying in a vulnerable position on the ground, shirtless, dirty, and crying, he let loose all the emotion he had kept inside him during the terrible months at Hogwarts, the Death Eater metings with the levitating corpses, and the strained atmosphere of life at home with the Dark Lord.

He didn't want to be in the damn war. He didn't want to be a failure. But he was both.  
He was one of the losers, the ones who chose the wrong side to support. But he didn't have a choice, really. His father was a Death Eater, as well as his mum. He was destined to be one, but he tried to fight destiny. Where did it leave him?

That night, when he was poiting his wand at his Headmaster, he had frozen up. It was as if someone had cast a Body Bind Curse on him. Dumbledore said he wasn't a killer, a murderer and was right. He didn't kill Dumbledore but faintly remembered Snape had.

But was the old fool still right? Draco had hurt, killed, and murdered already, though at the command of Lord Voldemort. Was he still considered a killer if he did not willingly choose to kill? What if it was forced upon him?

_"The Dark Lord would have finished off our bloodline,"_ he thought.

He had never fet more cowardly in his life. Forget the time he ran away from Granger after being punched. He was saved not only once, but twice, by the Golden Gryffindors. He knew that if it had been the other way around, he would have left them for dead in the Room of Requirement and wouldn't have saved their arses during battle. He owed those damn Gryffindors his life.

After the tantrum had passed, he layed in the dirt, which was mud now, literally transformed due to his tears. He made a noise that might have resembled laughter, but he wasn't sure.

"Why does everything always end up here?" he asked himself. Blood, the thing that caused the difference between peace and war in the magical world. He, a Pureblood, was taught that he was superior among others. However, he was worse off than Potter, who despite his accomplishments was still a Half-blood, Granger, a Mudblood -- a Muggle, and Weasley, a blood traitor. The Golden Trio and their golden leader were not lying in mud, crying and screaming.

He looked down at the blood on his hands and remembered the blood spilled during the Battle of Hogwarts and the blood from Granger, when she was tortured by Bellatrix for information at his home. All the blood was crimson red, dark red. The blood was the same.

_Blood, blood, blood_.

Finally taken over by exhaustion and fatigue, he passed out, sprawled across the grass.

The dawn crept up in the sky, shining red and orange light on the desperate, desolate boy who had lived, but wondered if he should have been dead. The birds chirped, unaware of what had happened in the night, and the magical world woke up to another day.


	3. Death Defying

**Starts with Goodbye**

_Tinsadisaster_

**Summary**: When the battle has finished and the magical world begins to reconstruct itself, those who have not fallen must pick up the pieces of their broken lives. DracoHermione

**Disclaimer**: I'd like to obliviate J.K. Rowling and pretend I own the characters and the story, but hey I'm only a Muggle sans magical skill.

**Author's Note**:  
Thank you for those who were considerate enough to leave a review. ) The bolded parts of this chapter come from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, so don't sue me! Here's an extra long chapter, just for you readers! There will be MANY spoilers in this chapter. If you haven't read the book yet, please don't read this! Warning: Motherly, Screeching Ron.

* * *

III. Death Defying

Minerva McGonagall was a withdrawn woman who kept her emotions to herself as if they were a secret made to be kept inside. She did not raise her voice more than necessary, except to scold rowdy students and reprimand certain colleagues. However, when she saw the limp form of Harry Potter in Hagrid's arms, she let out a scream that bounced off the broken walls of Hogwarts castle.

Hermione was one of many survivors hanging in the entrance hall who did not believe a word Voldemort said about Harry's death.

"He can't die," she thought. "It can't possibly be."

She, along with Ron and Ginny, ran ahead of the waiting crowd only to witness the only thing she feared: Harry Potter was dead.

"_No!_"

Her scream was drowned in the chorus of sorrowful moans of Ron, Ginny, and the inhabitants of Hogwarts castle. Voldemort seemed to relish in this delight, stroking Nagini and smiling perversely. Bellatrix was laughing as if it was Christmas morning and she received exactly what her heart, if she had one, desired.

"No, never ... It can't be!"

Hermione's eyes stung as her tears flowed copiously down her cheeks. She wanted to run to Harry, to hold him, and to weep over his cold corpse. However, she was rooted to the ground she stood on and did only the latter, letting her sorrow flow like the blood in her veins. Anger replaced sorrow quickly and she adjusted her body into an attack position. She felt ready to kill anyone who stood in her way.

But Neville beat her to it.

"**You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom.**"

Neville made a face similar to the time he accidentally stepped on one of Fred and George's Stinky Bombs. "**I'll join you when hell freezes over.**"

Hermione was shocked by her fellow Gryffindor's courage. Many people questioned why the meek, timid boy was ever sorted into Gryffindor but she knew all along he had incredible strength. Who else could receive verbal abuse from Professor Snape for consecutive years and yet come back for classes, day after day? Anyways, she had heard from Ginny that he became a rebel while she was searching for Horcruxes with Ron and Harry.

"_Harry..._"

This boy, her best friend, was ... The memories flashed back at a breakneck speed, and her anger grew.

_Living in the tent... eating mushrooms... holding his hand as he cried at his parent's grave... riding the blind dragon... the first hug they shared together... kissing his head after nearly died in the lake... laughing with him and Ron about his first kiss..._

She was ready to attack but then Grawp had arrived, causing chaos. She ran into the castle to save her life. She thought she saw the light of an invisible wand cast a protective spell for Neville but it must have been her mind playing games with her. She fired spells left and right, hoping she had not hit anyone on her side. The spells flew, lighting up the dark castle with strange fireworks.

"**HARRY! He's alive!**"

She whipped her head towards the voice and her eyes widened as she saw her best friend come to life, appearing out of nowhere.

The wands were drawn, what happened had happened, and everything went black.

* * *

"I can't believe..." she stammered, as she engulfed Harry in the tightest hug. She cried into his shoulder and felt him return the gesture, wrapping one arm around her middle and one in her hair.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that. But I had to pretend, you know?" he said, in a laughing matter. Hermione pulled away and did the first thing she thought was appropriate. She shoved him hard, nearly making him fall on his arse.

"Don't you _ever_, ever do that again! You nearly killed me, you know?" she said, slightly angry. Her anger quickly dissipated as Harry asked for forgiveness and smiled at him, those green eyes of his shining brightly.

"Hermione, I love you, you know," he said in a platonic tone. She nodded, understanding that though they had spent quite a long time with each other, a portion of it with just the two of them, there was someone else in Harry's eyes and her name was Ginny Weasley.

"I love you too, you prat."

"I know." Harry looked over his shoulder and saw Ron and Ginny approaching them. His heart stumbled a little, and he thought he was sweating out of every pore in his body. Hermione saw this and smiled to herself.

"Why do you look so nervous for Ron?" she said, delighted at her quick jab.

"Shut up, Mione. Shut up. Shut up." Harry was fixing his torn clothing and his unruly hair, a lost cause.

"Harry, can I talk to you?" said Ginny. Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him away, out of the Great Hall, towards the dark, deserted hallways of Hogwarts castle.

"I really doubt they will be talking at all," Ron said, his face scrunched up a bit. Harry was his best friend but Ginny was still his little sister. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at Hermione awkwardly.

She laughed as his attempt of relieving the tension.

"So..." she said, looking at everything but his eyes.

After some strange five minutes, Ron finally asked her for a hug. She gladly hugged him, but she felt uncomfortable. Now that Voldemort was dead, she was no longer Hermione Granger the Horcrux Hunter. She was seventeen with a blooming crush on a friend.

"I've got to go. Mum wants to take Fred home," Ron said, tearing up a little. He looked up and away, trying to appear as if he was a manly man who did not cry in front of girls. He puffed up his chest a little and Hermione thought he looked like a penguin, a red-headed penguin. "Are you going to come with us?"

"No, Ron. I've got to stay here and help the others. I'll join you lot later."

"Okay." He stood like a statue for a few lingering seconds.

"RON! We're leaving! Get your bony arse here!" howled George. "Stop harassing Hermione with your pickup lines!"

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Ron?"

"Err... Iloveyou!" he said quickly and ran away, disappearing with a pop.

He had been in such a rush that he sounded like he said, "I love lube."

Hermione laughed deeply, for the first time in a very long time.

* * *

Everyone seemed like they were comfortable, though it probably wasn't due to the jagged, stone floor.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. If you'd like to rest now, it's definitely okay," said Professor Mcgonagall, who had asked her to stay.

"Okay, thank you Professor," she said, and sat down on a bench.

She felt extremely tired and it was as though her body felt so heavy she couldn't stand up again. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and almost fell into a deep sleep but a scream nearby waked her senses.

"I've hurt! I've killed!" screeched a young wizard. Her eyes focused to the light, adjusted, and she realized the frantic young man was Draco Malfoy. She watched him shrink away from his parents, turn, and run away.

She should have stayed put but human curiosity got the best of her and she followed the blond-headed wizard. She ran a few yards behind him, hoping to make her presence undetectable. She tracked him, all the way to the Quidditch Pitch, where she saw him strip with frenzy.

She gasped as she heard him howl with pain like a wolf. Was Draco part wolf? She quickly answered her question, mentally slapping herself for such a stupid assumption.

"Why does everything always end up here?" Draco cried, rolling up into a ball on his side. His back was drizzled with wounds and scars placed precisely. They seemed fresh, too. Had Draco received physical abuse from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, too? She didn't want to think about the brutality he could have been exposed to.

She waited underneath the stands for his tantrum to pass. He quickly came to himself but he passed out, too.

Quietly, she approached his unconscious form. He was sprawled across the grass and his pale skin was alive with orange and red, the colors of the dawn that was silently creeping up in the sky. She would have sworn he looked like a fallen angel, though he was far from being heavenly.

She levitated his body with her wand and carefully maneuvered him into the castle and towards the Hospital Wing, where he would be taken under the care of Madame Pompfrey, who had not participated in the battle but healed the injured wizards and witches who were taken to her.

Hermione thought to stay by his bedside till he woke up but then in reality, he would have loathed her for the good she had done, so she simply left. She walked towards the Great Hall, where she planned to inform his parents that he was in the Hospital Wing. She wasn't excited for the Malfoys' reaction but what could she do? Somewhere along the way, she thought she heard muffled voices.

"I love you, Gin," a deep, familiar voice was saying.

"I know, I know, Harry," the girl replied. She giggled and they were silent for a bit...

... until a third voice intervened.

"GINNY!"

"Oh my god, Ron!"

"Mate, this isn't what it looks like."

"Really? Put your shirt back on, Gin! Harry, blimely, you little bastard! I know you're the hero and everything but my sister, in the hallways! Ginny, where are your robes? Bloody hell, Harry, where are your pants?"

Hermione smiled. Ron was turning into the perfect protective mother. She walked on, towards the Great Hall, where she would face the Malfoys and hopefully, a pillow and a sleeping bag.

Ron's voice was still ringing in the hallways, threatening to wake the dead.

"I will bloody feed your balls to the owls and THEN kill you, Potter!"

"Sure, Ron."

"Don't test me, mister."

"Gee, brother. You sound like mum right now."

"AAGGH!"


	4. Falling, Sleeping, Waking

**Starts with Goodbye**

_Tinsadisaste_r

**Summary**: When the battle has finished and the magical world begins to reconstruct itself, those who have not fallen must pick up the pieces of their broken lives. DracoHermione

**Disclaimer**: I wish it were mine, but JKR got to it first!

**Author's Note**:

Hey readers! If you want to read something that's similar to this story, check out my newly updated fanfiction Remember When? I really hope Ron hasn't killed Harry yet. Wouldn't that be such a sad ending for our famous green eyed anti-superhero? Here's a really long chapter, just for you lovely people!

* * *

Draco woke up to the tittering and moans of many witches and wizards he had thrown spells against during the big battle. He shot up quickly, but regretted it almost instantly because the sudden motion gave him the greatest headache of his life.

"Oh, bugger, my head..." he said to himself as he clutched his forehead with his left hand. The right was bandaged. It seemed he had injured himself in his silent tantrum the night before.

_How did I end up here though? Did someone find me?_

"Tut!"

Draco attempted to climb out of the warm bed but was stopped by Madame Pompfrey and her aid, a sixth year Ravenclaw student. He was instantly shoved, softly, back into bed and under the crisp white sheets.

"Mister Malfoy, I advise that you refrain from any other movement for the next couple hours. It seems as if you had a rough night, but then again everyone has. You should be happy, you're in a better condition than the rest of your hospital neighbors here," Madame Pompfrey said.

Draco didn't have the energy to be a snotty little patient so he complied with her suggestions and let his eye lids close just a little bit. He wasn't falling asleep, he refused to...

Rowena, the Ravenclaw girl who was acting as a hospital aid, stayed behind while her mentor walked to the other side of the Hospital Wing to pay attention to the rest of her patients. In the wake of a war, the busiest people were always the medical personnel and casket makers.

"Such a handsome boy," she muttered, letting her hand fall gently on top of his dangling one. "Too bad you were one of _them_." She lifted his dead weight hand and dropped it on the mattress, tucking him in like she did to her younger brother when she was home for the holidays.

"Wena, my love! The butterscotch nibblers are biting me again! You told me you caught them all, you little brunette liar." Rowena sighed. Her least favorite patient was calling for her again, probably hoping that she'd come close enough so he could snatch some part of her body. She wondered if the Slytherin boy had really been hit by a hallucination spell or he was just another hormonal teenage boy, desperate for a feel.

"Coming, Matthew."

"Yes," he purred. "Yes, you will, for me, someday soon."

"Dirty little snake! I refuse to help you. Get up from that bed so someone who actually needs it can take it. All you Slytherins are the same, taking up space like tacky furniture."

"Oh, love. Do come here, I'm in pain."

She stared down at her shoes and muttered to herself, "_Oh, I'll give you something to complain about._"

"Oooohhh..." the blonde haired boy moaned.

"Keep your pants on, I'm getting there!"

"Oh, must I promise that, my cupcake?"

Draco couldn't sleep. That stupid housemate of his was accosting the hospital aid. Somewhere along the way, he swore he heard the boy say, "Yes, my dear, I'm raising a basilisk in my pocket. Don't get near or he'll just take a bite out of you."

He knew he couldn't stand it and quickly escaped from the Hospital Wing, shaky knees, thunderstorm of a headache, and all. If Madame Pompfrey appeared out of nowhere, chasing him down and threatening to perform a petrifying spell on him, he would just run faster.

He reached the Room of Requirement, a room that he knew very much about, and thought, "Somewhere I can sleep peacefully, far away from distractions. Somewhere comfortable, somewhere isolated." The outline of a door solidified and brightened, and a door knob appeared. He turned it with his good hand and quickly shut it behind him.

He faced an endless starry sky, tall green grass, a romantic willow dancing in the light wind, and the distant sound of crickets singing. The room was not a room, but a cliff that had no bottom, but was a cliff nonetheless. He breathed in the drowsy air and walked towards an appealing spot underneath a tree. The trunk curled, creating a natural pillow that just screamed his name.

He laid down, despite the thought that he was sleeping outside like a homeless wizard. He closed his ears, heard only the siren song of the crickets, and fell out of consciousness easily.

* * *

Meanwhile, Hermione had been rudely awakened, by whom she did not care until she heard the familiar voice speaking her name.

"Ms. Granger, I suggest that you compose yourself and tell my wife and I where our son is," Lucius Malfoy curtly said. Hermione couldn't believe the gall of this man, disrupting her peaceful sleep so she could go on a man hunt for a son who probably ran away without the plan of being found?

"Mr. Malfoy, I told you last night. He had collapsed outside the castle but was safely transported to the Hospital Wing, where he should be recuperating."

"We went there, you see, you little Mugg-- girl. He was nowhere to be found. That Pompfrey woman was too busy to talk to us, imagine that, so we were clueless until the Ravenclaw girl admitted she thought she saw him walk out and away from that part of the castle," Narcissus Malfoy explained in a civil tone. The woman was glad that her son was alive and refused to badmouth the girl who probably was also responsible in saving his life, alongside Harry Potter.

"So you expect me to know where he went? Who am I, his keeper?" Hermione said, quickly wondering if she should have replied in such a harsh tone. She was never a morning person, especially when she was awakened well before the right time.

"No, Ms. Granger, you aren't. We'd just like to know where our son is, so we can go home," Lucius said.

"I'm sorry if I was rude at all, but I can probably find him for you. If you give me some time..."

"Thank you, dear," Narcissus said. She touched her husband's shoulder, nodded, and led him away, towards the table covered in conjured breakfast.

Hermione shook her head. She really needed to learn how to say no sometimes. Running her hands through her crumpled clothing, she retrieved her wand and searched for the boy she never thought she'd need to find in her life.

* * *

Draco was freefalling, through what he didn't know exactly. However, he had the feeling that he was probably dreaming. His dreams were always like this, the constant falling without the impact of the crash. He asked Pansy what this meant one time, on a whim, and she replied that he needed to lay off the flying. He scoffed and ignored her for the rest of the week.

The only thing left was the familiar voice of someone he knew but could not name on the spot. It bothered him to no end, this annoying little setback. Maybe this time he would finally find out to whom the voice belonged. Maybe.

* * *

Hermione had searched all the houses' common rooms and dorm rooms, as well as all the bathrooms and broom closets. She had even walked to the Quidditch Pitch, thinking he would be making an encore performance. She racked her brain thinking, "If I were Malfoy, where would I likely be hiding?"

"Take me to Malfoy," she demanded of the Room of Requirement, never believing that it would actually work.

She never thought she would find him at one of her favorite spots in the world. She called it the Cliff of Calm, her escape from the busy world of Hogwarts, studying, and Harry Potter adventures. She discovered the place when the Room of Requirement popped up out of nowhere and she asked it to take her to a place where she could think without hearing the buzzing distractions of her life.

She always felt it reminded her of a scene from the Lion King, one of the movies she grew up watching as a child. In this particular scene, the son dreamed his father appeared in the sky and told him to "remember" who he was. Perhaps she was wrong.

"Malfoy, wake up!" She poked the seemingly dead boy hugging the tree trunk but he refused to wake up. She continued poking him and even thought of kicking him but remembered that he was battered and probably didn't need any more damage.

Being a "sleeps-like-a-log" type of person, she understood that the only thing to do was to wait until he woke up.

"Tell me Malfoy, was everything you said last night the truth? Are you truly sorry for what you've done?" she asked the sleeping boy. He grunted in his sleep, scaring Hermione for a second.

"Will you change your ways?" she asked next, experimentally. He did not reply but only let one hand slip from the tree trunk and fall next to hers. Hermione had the strange desire to hold it but brushed it away, thinking that she was deprived of sleep and probably three-quarters insane at the moment.

She had no more questions left. So she simply looked up at the starry sky, which would never turn into a blue sky. Never in her experience had she witnessed it change. She thought, "Some things are constant, in this ever changing world."

"I wish you had been as pleasant as you are now, when you were awake. I think we would have been better, I'm sure."

* * *

Draco was tired of falling. The voice he was hearing kept asking him questions so he couldn't even rest in his sleep.

So he willed himself to wake up. He kicked and punched invisible enemies, pinched himself, and even slapped himself a few times. Then he started screaming at no one, screaming that he wanted to wake up now please.

He tried but quickly gave up. His body wouldn't let him wake up.

_Great. I could be dead right now and not know it. Did I trip and fall down the ever-changing stairs like that one dolt from school? Did I run into the remaining powder of an AK spell? _

He suddenly felt his body shake and knew that he was finally going to crash and feel that impact. This was a refreshing feeling, seeing as in his previous dreams, he just kept falling.

He opened his eyes and saw nothing.

* * *

Hermione was twirling near the dancing willow, wearing a crown of flowers she had picked several minutes before, on her head. Malfoy was taking quite a while to wake up so she decided to do something other than watch him sleep. Besides, if he had woken up and saw her staring at him, he would think she was an insane stalker.

"Oh my god, I'm bloody blind!" screamed Draco, scaring Hermione so much she fell over with a resounding "oomph!"

"Merlin, my eyeballs aren't working! Why is the world against me? Where the bloody hell am I?"

"Ah, so the Sleeping Beauty has finally wakened up," Hermione said silently, chuckling slightly.

"Hey, I heard that! You, who are you? What have you done to my eyesight? A blanketing spell, eh? Lift it or else!"

"Geez, Malfoy. Stop being such a primadonna. You'll be fine," she replied.

"... Granger?"

Hermione watched the blonde haired princess stare at her with blank eyes. It wouldn't have been the first time she was invisible to him though she was clearly just standing an embrace distance away.

"Yes, it's me, Malfoy. And stop shouting. You've frightened the crickets. Your eyes are just adjusting to the darkness."

"...Oh. Where are we?"

"We're at the Cliff of Calm. As far as I know, you're the second person to ever find this place within Hogwarts."

"Why are you talking to me?"

"My, what a priss you are. Maybe I should just leave you here, blind and defenseless."

"No, please don't. I meant, why have you found me? Don't tell me you where following me after I escaped that hormone-ridden Hospital Wing."

Hermione quirked her head a bit to the side, puzzled by his statement. She really didn't think she wanted to know what he was talking about.

"Yes, Malfoy. I'm madly in love with you and now that I've got you cornered, I'm planning to ravish you until you cry for mercy."

Draco said nothing to this, squinting his eyes a bit. He could see blurry edges of color now. However, he was quite sure he was speaking to Hermione Granger. Her hair was a dead give away. She never could get that mane under control.

"If this was another world and another time, then I would have said, 'Do as you wish, milady,' and had you pinned up against the tree that I was just recently sleeping on. But, it's not your lucky day, Granger."

"Merlin, Malfoy. You really can' take a joke. I'm here because your parents asked me to find you."

"Now that's more unbelievable than your first excuse. Why would they ask you of all people?"

"Yes, I was going to suggest Filch but they wanted _me_ specifically. Imagine that, prat."

"Have I hit my head and entered an alternate universe, Granger? My father asking you, my mother speaking to you civilly? I don't think I should believe you. Maybe you're not Granger after all. You're one of those boggy things that we learned about in Defense of the Dark Arts class with Mad-Eye Moody."

"You fear me the most? Wow, that's quite a compliment. I could kiss you, Malfoy."

"Please, don't."

"And how are your eyes now?"

"Better. I can see your tasteless pink striped bra underneath your white shirt, if you get what I mean."

"Ugh! Malfoy, eyes off the chest, please. I think I'll have to puncture out my own eyes now."

"Though I can't see your face. Maybe it's for the better. Your chest is much more interesting."

Draco saw a slow-motion arm and felt the impact of the slap. Bloody hell, the little bint had laid another one on him!

"That'll probably benefit your eyesight."

"I think you've fixed it, Granger. I really think so."

"Fine. What does that tree over there look like?"

"Well, it looks like a bloody tree. What else would it look like, you?"

"You little cockroach..."

Draco shook his head a few times and blinked a couple more. His vision was blurry but quickly focused. He saw a cross-looking, short Gryffindor with crossed arms and a face that warned him of a temper rising.

"Well, you've failed."

"What? You're delusional, as well as blind."

"Here we were, chatting away like we were old chums when you could've gone and jumped my bones. You could've been kissing me and rubbing your woman parts on my man parts."

"Ugh! That's it! I'm leaving without you!" Hermione stomped away, not caring to hear the Slytherin boy's shouts of "Granger, come back! My knees are broken!" and "I don't know where the door is!" and "Don't leave me, you little bitch!"

_Lucius and Narcissus Malfoy will just have to live without their son from now on. They'll probably have an easier life, seeing as that pain in the arse won't be around._

Draco saw the retreating Gryffindor and decided to stop talking and start running to keep up with her. He saw her grab something invisible that turned into a door. He doubled his speed and slipped through the doorway just in the nick of time.

He fell to the ground, panting and sweating.

"Good job, Malfoy. You've escaped. Now go run along to your mummy and daddy so I can finally go on my way and be with people who are happy to see me."

He looked up at the still-cross-looking Granger and picked himself off the dusty, somewhat bloody ground.

"Now, you little torturer, I never said that I was not happy to see you. You just assumed."

"Whatever, Malfoy. I've seen enough of you these two nights to fill ten years."

"What do you mean, two nights? Did you see me when I..."

He never got to finish his statement. Hermione had turned and walked away before he could mutter another syllable.

"Hah. I guess I wasn't alone in my little breakdown," Draco said.

His stomach growled and he felt hungry for the first time in what seemed a long time. Clutching his stomach, he made a mad dash for the Great Hall, where his parents would be, as well as food.


End file.
